


A Horror in Crystal

by Stormcalled (Raidho)



Series: In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Echo shenanigans, Friendship, Gen, Grief, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mourning, Nightmares, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raidho/pseuds/Stormcalled
Summary: Krile dreams, guided by the Echo.She dreams of something a friend hopes never to see.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light, Krile Mayer Baldesion & G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch
Series: In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1435858
Comments: 9
Kudos: 77





	A Horror in Crystal

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation with [Juke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jukain/pseuds/jukain) and written in a fugue in a couple of hours.
> 
> You can yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/AStormcalled).

She has, by this point, set foot in the Tower, but only for a few long hours over a scarce handful of days. It is not so _familiar_ as this, detail so fine as to mark every inclusion in the crystal, every vein of gold, the crisp, slightly ozone smell of the place, the echoing sensation of vastness, and the varying strange sounds--the pitches are different, more harmonic than the ones she encountered, and some are entirely foregin to her ears, things she is confident she _could not_ have detected. She sees the Tower through someone else’s eyes, then; hears it with someone else’s ears. Her heart beats with someone else’s determination blotting out any fear--and _that_ is an intimate sensation to her, one she has felt many times at the end of her sixth sense.

There’s a crackling sound, a cry of pain, and for one instant a spike of fear wins over determination. She turns--because she both is and is not herself here, slowly disentangling herself from the senses of the heart through which she entered this vision--in time to see Raha-- _The Exarch_ , she corrects herself--falling. It is a split second before the vector of her vision turns, rushing to catch him. Krile stands apart, watching, _feeling_. Crystal has exploded out of the Exarch to crawl across the chest of his robes, yet supple but crackling into inclusions, down his legs, over his hands--she knows, with some strange instinct, he has already given up the ring _her_ Raha now wears, to save it. The tone of his voice, hopeful, determined, full of _love_ matches the overwhelming mix of emotions practically _blasting_ out of him as Aden holds him through his pain. She hopes most fervently that his own less-than-reliable version of the Echo’s empathic gifts permitted him to feel this, and she wonders, now, which of them she’s really seeing this from.

“You silly old fool,” she murmurs to herself when Raha rises to his feet finally, and makes his stand. She moves to follow Aden, knowing from his version of events that she might catch something he did not through this vision, but as she reaches the next set of stairs there is a great presence behind her, and her vision darkens, as if a pair of hands have settled over her eyes.

 _Not this_ , a rich voice echoes through her head, very much like Aden’s. She recoils from it, trying to duck away, but the darkness follows. _This is too much._

“What do you mean, _too much?_ ” Rarely is a vision so interactive, even one from another Echo user, but this is downright _alarming_ , as if some third party intervenes.

 _Permit us some small dignity,_ the voice answers. In that twilight she feels impossible sunlight on her face, radiant and warm. _Let the dead pass in peace; let their grief remain private, and ours._

“Please, I _implore_ you, whoever you are; by witnessing Aden’s battle I might lend some of my expertise.”

 _You would see more than you’ve bargained for._ Now the _tone_ turns more familiar, more like Aden’s, and she wonders at that, because it _is_ and _is not_ him. _This isn’t a dream; it’s the end of a long nightmare._

Diplomacy, the Echo tells her, will not sway this immovable force, that it is stubborn unto death, and Krile reaches up to prise away the hands with an exertion of her will--and finds, in her shock, that they part like mist. Whatever barred her path is _elsewhere_ now--she senses it, just briefly, in the vision of Aden rising alongside Raha. They stand atop the Tower, in the throne room, and with some disappointment she realizes the battle is won. Raha lifts his hood, and Aden answers his smile with one of his own--there is a flash within a flash, darkly familiar, of cold despair and a large, lax hand gripped tight in two smaller, gauntleted ones. _A smile better suits a hero_ \--then it is gone, and she watches Raha take his place before the throne. “No,” pulls itself from her throat, soft. She had learned of this from the others--neither of them would speak of it, yet here it was before her unfolding--” _No.”_ Raha speaks of hope, of legacy, and Aden stands with him, and smiles all the while the crystal finally weaves all the way through his body, rendering him transparent in places where previously vague and distorted flesh had been unsettlingly visible through crystal. “ _No_ ,” becomes a plea, a mantra--because her damnable Echo has always felt so _real_. She was not here--she is here--and her feet carry her forward as she feels both the rising horror and despair in Aden, the subtle changes in the hum of the Tower through his ears, the crystal he grips delicately in his hand; and the moment Raha’s heart ceases to be flesh, the moment crystal overtakes his vision, the strange mix of _love_ and _catharsis_ as finally, finally--” _NO!”_

Aden falls to his knees and screams, pressing his head to cold crystal, and she is alarmingly aware of the feeling of that perfect statue of her dearest friend against bare skin. And yet she is scarcely aware of him, transfixed by this horror of hope--the friend she had now lost twice--and as she drew near reached out with one shaking hand--

* * *

Krile woke with a gasp, heart hammering in her chest, chills rolling over her body. Through a life wracked with vivid visions, rarely had one been so desperately close to her heart--and all the more real for strange feedback from Aden’s Echo. She rose shaking from the bed, nightgown flowing around her ankles, and regretted not slipping on shoes the moment her bare feet touched the stone floor, the shock cold as crystal. Yet she moved anyway, compelled by fear to leave her private chamber--the one luxury she had afforded herself on taking up residence in the Rising Stones to care for the fallen Scions, briefly her dear friend Minfilia’s old room--and confirm with her eyes that the vision’s results had been rectified. She stumbled in the low light of night time in the base, half groping her way to Dawn’s Respite. The door opened quietly, and she padded by the beds of each of the Scions, still recovering, sleeping soundly whether from exhaustion or medication, to the very last bed. It took some time for her eyes to adjust, but there they lay, tangled up in each other’s arms, Aden and her dear, dear Raha. They wore loose pajamas--Aden a gray shirt, Raha brown, much too large for him, and by one foot hanging off the bed a pair of soft dark blue pants printed with tiny chocobos, by their size both surely belonging to Aden. Not armor, or crystal-encrusted robes, just--simple. Humble. Asleep. There in front of her under an old quilt.

“Krile?” She startled at the low whisper of Aden’s voice, found his mismatched eyes staring at her in the dark, reflecting thin circles of pale light.

For a long moment she hesitated, unwilling to acknowledge she’d been caught watching them, or to disturb the moment, the evidence of her eyes. With each passing moment it seemed she needed one moment more, and her gaze drifted back to Raha, sleeping peacefully as Aden very carefully untangled himself from their shared embrace. “I saw,” she finally answered, voice small and soft.

Aden rose to sit on the edge of the bed, back popping just audibly, and gestured for her come around. She did so, moving automatically, and stopped when he leaned forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “I saw,” she repeated. “I saw him--”

“Don’t say it,” Aden whispered, a raw, desperate edge in his voice. “Don’t ever say it.” His eyes glittered with dampness in the dark, and that, finally, was too much. She swallowed a sob and tried to lean forward, to hide her tears, but he just drew her close into an embrace made awkward by the difference in their height. Her damnable Echo beat in time with his, for a moment, and she took some solace in that brief connection of shared mourning, despair--for something they both had and had not lost.

Behind Aden she heard a sleepy sound, a rustling of fabric. “Aden?” a half-asleep murmur, and then suddenly two red rings blinked owlishly at her out of the darkness.

“She saw,” Aden explained, voice rough.

“ _Oh,_ ” Raha breathed, and stared for a moment. She stared back, unable to say anything but to grope in the dark for him, to hope for her Echo to snag on some confirmation of his presence--just not _that_ , anything but _that_. “Come here,” he said, voice soft and beautiful and familiar in the darkness, not like it’d been in the vision, changed by time and encroaching crystal. Aden let go, and Krile clambered up into the bed and let Raha sweep her into a hug. “I’m here," he murmured against her hair. “I’m here, and whole, and I won’t be doing anything that foolish again.”

“I saw you,” she stammered through tears. “I saw you--I felt it-- _cold_.” A hand settled on her back, between Raha’s, a reassuring weight in counterpoint to his embrace.

“I’m here,” Raha repeated. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She wanted to believe him.

* * *

In the morning Krile woke pressed between them, eyes sticky with tears, as the other Scions began to rouse. She rose in a panic, waking both of them as she started to clamber out of the bed. They were her _friends_ , and wed beside, and while _she_ knew what had happened she wished to avoid--

“There are easily hundreds of people on this star who’d kill to be where you are now,” Alisaie said, grinning from the end of the bed as she lowered a tomestone from capturing an image. “Which paper will pay the most for _this_ one do you think, hm?”

“Ali _saie_ \--”

She dashed across the room, laughing, as Aden untangled himself from the quilt and launched after her. Behind her Raha laughed softly. “I’m glad to see some things remain the same no matter which star we find ourselves on.”

Krile turned, grinning, to find Raha looking after them as they dashed out the door, a gentle, _peaceful_ sort of happiness crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’m glad you’re home, Raha.”

“So am I.”


End file.
